Perfect
by TheProphetOfWeasels
Summary: Greta never lasted a day in that house alone, forcing the Heelshire's to return to their prison. Now, they only have one last hope in Cassandra Black, a childhood friend of Brahms' that he had demanded. No one else would do. She was perfect.
1. Cassandra

**I don't own The Boy, it's storyline or any characters. Only my own characters and storylines. K' love you all!**

 **I based Cassandra's appearance off Natalie Dormer, but there are subtle differences. I don't own Natalie Dormer either, sadly.**

* * *

A green car pulled into the Heelshire driveway, stopping once comfortably parked. A woman in a neat peach dress to her knees stepped out, the skirts blowing slightly in the light breeze, as she adjusted her wrist length white gloves as she drank in the familiar site of the Manor. She began pulling out all of her suitcases, whining slightly at how many she had. In saying that, she packed almost all of her clothes, favourite belongings and a large suitcase full of flavours, foods and spices for the cupboards. Sighing, she shut the trunk of her car as the front door to the Manor open, a man with dirty blond hair came jogging down. "Malcolm!"

"Cassandra, hey!" They hugged briefly, catching up on news as quickly as they could as they went back and forth from the Manor to the car, getting all the bags and cases inside. When they were done, Malcolm practically fell back against the wall, breathing heavily, and was obviously exaggerating. "Did you bring your entire house?"

"Pretty darn close, honestly." Cassandra laughed as Malcolm rolled his eyes, still dramatically breathing. "You did good, dude."

"Cassandra." They both turned to view the elderly woman in well pressed clothes. She looked stern, but also relieved. Malcolm contained himself, giving a single nod and saying his goodbyes as he exited the house, most likely feeling slightly embarrassed. Cassandra took out her tight bun of hair, shaking her head as the black locks fell in waves to the middle of her back, pulling it all over her left shoulder. "It's wonderful to see you again, Cassandra."

"No need to be so formal, Maggie." Cassandra's blue eyes shone as she approaches. "We're all friends here." She smiled, embracing the familiar lady. "How's everything been since my last visit?"

"Painful, my dear." Maggie shook her head, sighing to herself. "Nearly 21 years, and it's still aches like he died yesterday." Maggie managed a smile, Cassandra placing a hand on her shoulder.

"You both deserve a break from it all." She smiled warmly. "Get away for a little while... I bought Brahms a birthday present, since it'll be his birthday next week. I hope he likes it."

Since Brahms death when they were children, Cassandra had only returned back here a few times, not wanting to relive the death, but she believed he was still resided in the home. In spirit, but he was still here. Her things would move or vanish for a short while, her favourite records would randomly start playing through the house and, on the rarest occasions, her clothes would go missing and never come back. Playful, odd little Brahms. It gave Cassandra an off comfort to think Brahms' ghost roamed the halls. At least then she wouldn't be completely on her own in this house. Aside from Malcolm visiting once a week, there would be no other living person to talk with until the Heelshire's came back from their break.

"He likes it well enough that you've come back," Maggie took Cassandra's arm, walking side by side through the house with no time for reminiscence. "Imagine how thrilled he'll be to know you plan on staying forever." Maggie whispered, hearing her husband's faint voice on the top floor. Such a kind, warm voice. Cassandra giggled slightly in response.

"Only if he's well-behaved, Maggie. He has to be a good boy."

"Be good to him and he'll be good to you." Maggie repeated, almost sounding like a parrot with how recited it was, but Cassandra chose to ignore it. She knew how to deal her darling little Brahms.

"That's a lovely suit, Brahms. Especially that tie. I always loved your ties, you know that?" David was muttering softly, only stopping when they entered the room. The elderly man turned, spotting Cassandra and his eyes going soft, a smile coming over his face. "Look at you..." David headed over slowly. "Look how you've grown. So pretty. So grown up!"

He wasn't exaggerating. The last time she was here, she was a measly 16 year old who was all elbow and knee because she never sat still. Now, at 28 years old, her curves had filled in nicely, her skin glowed and she looked far more like a prim, proper young lady. Her late mother may have had a heart attack at seeing her daughter if she hadn't died so young.

"It's good to be back." Cassandra hugged him tight, spotting a child sized doll in the armchair, glee filling her. "Hey there Brahmsy!" Cassandra walked over, picking up the doll and hugging him gently. "I missed you the most, Brahms. We're going to have so much fun together, yeah?" Of course, the doll didn't answer, but there was no surprise there.

"You know how to change his clothes, his normal times in his routine, the rules are in the kitchen in case you need to remind yourself of them... What are we missing?" David questioned, turning to his wife as Cassandra gently sorted out the doll's hair, bouncing him gently in her arms.

"There's a letter waiting for you in your room. If we're forgetting anything now, it's all in there." Maggie smiled, but Cassandra spotted the momentary deception flash in her eyes.

"It's fine, you two have nothing to worry about. Besides, I'm sure Brahms will let me know if he needs anything else, won't you Brahmsy?" Cassandra kissed the doll's forehead, smiling. "Did you manage to do something for his birthday?"

"His presents are also in your room. They're not too large, and they don't take up too much room." Maggie nodded, turned her head towards her husband with a sullen expression. "We have to leave now, or we'll be late darling."

"Ah, I'm sorry!" Cassandra ushered them out of the room with one hand. "Don't let me get in the way of your well earned holiday!"

All three of them didn't speak to each other through the house, but Cassandra was happily chatting away to the doll, telling him all about her adventures and how she would tell him the stories properly later on. By the time they reached the front door, Cassandra had to be spoken directly to in order to bring her out of the phase she went into. "We'll see you soon, my dear." David hugged her tight, and returned it the best she could with Brahms in her arms.

"Don't let it be too soon, David. You have a well earned holiday to attend. Take all the time you need, I've got Brahms safe and sound." She smiled brightly and theirs faltered for a moment.

"Mummy and Daddy love you too, Brahms. Our special boy." Maggie ran a hand over Brahms' hair, tears glistening in her eyes as David said his goodbyes and climbed into the car, waiting for his wife. "Be safe, Cassandra." That caught her off guard, locking eyes with the sad woman. "Be good to him and he'll be good to you."

"Maggie, come on dear!" David called from the car, Maggie hugging Cassandra one more time, like her life depended on it.

"I'm so sorry..." Maggie let go, rushing into the car, and neither of them turned back as the car drove out of sight, Cassandra watching them the whole way. She was all alone with Brahms now, unaware of anything that would happen.

"Well Brahmsy..." Cassandra shut the door, shaking her head. "How's about we - What the?"Her luggage was gone, bar one suitcase. The one filled with the things for the kitchen. Everything else had vanished from sight. "Oh Brahmsy... What have I gotten myself into?"

* * *

"Do you think she'll be all right?" David questioned, turning to his dear wife with saddened eyes as they got even further from their home.

"She'll have to be, love." Maggie patted his hand, wiping away some of her tears. She didn't want to leave Cassandra with Brahms, but they had no choice. They had to get away from Brahms.

"She had no idea what she's walked into." David shook his head, frightened for the beloved young lady.

"Perhaps not, but she was our only hope. He killed that American girl the day we left last time, and all the other nannies, all because he wanted Cassandra." Maggie didn't want to relive those memories, here eyes sorrowful and unsure. "Brahms adores her, David."

"He's obsessed, Maggie." David corrected gently. "Always has been, ever since they were children. I wouldn't be surprised if that was why he killed poor Emily Cribbs. She always got in the way in his mind, he said it himself."

"It certainly isn't out of his possibilities. Not after poor Greta Evans and the others."

"God save their poor souls." David sighed, "God have mercy on poor Cassandra."

* * *

 **What's up, Unicorns!**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Have a fabulous day daaahhllinnnggsss!**

 **0^0 Weasel out!**


	2. Panic

**I don't own The Boy, it's storyline or any characters. Only my own characters and story lines. K' love you all!**

 **Thank you to anyone who favourited/followed and reviewed... Unless you Voldemort and you tried to kill Mama Unicorn.**

 **I DO NOT OWN 'MOONLIGHT SONATA'**

 **I DO NOT OWN "Song of the Artesian Water" by Banjo Paterson.**

 **All credit to the owners.**

* * *

Cassandra wandered into the kitchen, Brahms in one arm and the other pulling the suitcase behind her. "Right sweetie, you sit here for a few minutes." She sat Brahms in one of the chairs, lying the suitcase down on the table and unzipping it. "Time to pop everything away now. We have to tidy as we go, don't we Brahmsy? Mustn't have a messy house... How about some music, Brahms?"

Pulling out her phone and plugging it in to the small portable speakers she managed to fit into her handbag, Elvis Presley began to play through the house, Cassandra dancing around the kitchen. "You like Elvis, right Brahms? You always used to." As _Jailhouse Rock_ played through the halls, Cassandra busied herself with putting everything away with proper storage, blissfully unaware of the presence watching her every movement close by. "Now-" She picked him back up, bouncing the doll gently with a warm smile. "What should we have for lunch?"

* * *

Brahms couldn't believe his luck. There she stood, less than 10 feet from where he hid, in all her beautiful glory. Finally, he had her. He had his sweet Cassie all alone until Mummy and Daddy came back. Even then, if he behaved, Cassie would stay. He had heard her say it herself when she arrived. If he was a good boy, Cassie would stay with him forever. She would stay forever anyway - he wasn't about to let her get away from him again - but Brahms wanted to be a good boy for his Cassie. The last thing he wanted was for Cassie to think he was bad... To think she couldn't love him.

But she would love him. She had said so when they were children. That when they were older, they would get married one day and live with each other forever. He remembered being against it then - being the young lad he was - but he wanted nothing more than to have her. His fingered brushed the mask on his face, shaking his head. She would love this face - Mummy and Daddy did - but she couldn't see under it. If she did, Cassie would run away from him. He couldn't let her run, unless they were in the gardens again, just like they always used to.

Brahms watched as his little Cassie danced around the kitchen, making spaghetti bolognese (an odd choice for lunch, Brahms thought, but he wasn't against it). She truly was little as well, standing around a foot less in height than he was. How precious. Her height worked in his advantage, which Brahms appreciated. There was no way that could outrun him if she tried, so it would be extremely easy to catch her. Brahms hoped it would never come to that, unless they were playing Tag. He loved that game.

How thankful he was that Mummy and Daddy finally listened to him. If they had listened the first time, all those other nannies would still be alive. They were all so ignorant and rude. Cassie wasn't ignorant: she always did what she was told, followed all the rules and would happily do more if he told her to. She said it herself, and Brahms would hold her to that. Ahh, how he loved her. His perfect Cassie.

He would have her, and no one would get in the way... Not this time.

* * *

Cassandra put the two plates on the table, popping Brahms back into his chair and pushing it forward. Taking a seat herself, she pushed her hair off her shoulders, feeling it cascade down her back. "Well Brahmsy, we'll get now and then handle the traps." She nodded to herself. "Get all the boring stuff out of the way, so we have more time for all the fun stuff!"

She ate in silence, as she had turned off her music, Cassandra's memories of running around the whole house as a child filled her brain. One of Brahms' favourite games was Tag, so they were often seen running all over the property. He was the most normal, odd child she'd ever known. She could never deny that he was odd, but all it took was for someone to play well and listen properly for Brahms to become friendly. If they weren't playing Tag, they were playing chess or reading a book together. Either that, or Cassandra would help him climb the trees and hide away from Emily and any other guests.

Emily never played well. She always wanted Brahms all to herself, always trying to separate Cassandra from him. She would throw the most awful fits when Brahms would always prefer to spend his time with Cassandra. It filled her with an almost shameful pride. It was sad that Emily was dead at such a tender age, but then so was her best friend. At least she cared enough about Brahms to miss him. A lot of the time, Emily's death never crossed her mind. Shaking her head, Cassandra put her empty plate in the sink of warm water, picking Brahms up again and smiling, holding him close. "Should I leave this plate of food out for my little spirit boy?" Looking around there was no answer, making Cassandra purse her lips. "Should I put this hot, tasty meal away to freeze?"

 _"No."_

Cassandra jumped slightly, gripping the doll tighter. Such a faint child's voice. Such a recognisable child's voice. It didn't seem very close by, but that might've just been because of the quietness. A smile slowly spread across her face, looking at the doll in her arms. "Well, you don't get a clear sign than that, do you Brahms?" She knew it. She knew his spirit was still in the house! "Come on Brahmsy, let's get you into something nicer than that suit, and much more comfy. I don't know why Mummy and Daddy put you in those. You hate suits."

Brahms was cradled carefully in his nanny's arms as she ran up the stairs, opening the door to the doll's room and sitting his down on the bed. "Right Brahmsy, what shall we put you in?" Searching through his clothes (making sure to keep them neat), she soon found a red button up cardigan and a pair of jeans. "These'll do for now, Brahmsy. We'll leave your shirt and shoes on, they match just fine. Okay, sweetness?" She kissed his forehead again, changing his clothes as quickly and carefully as possible. "Look at you, handsome boy!" Picking him back up, she planted yet another kiss on his forehead as they exited the room, heading down the stairs slowly. "It's a very lovely day today, sweetness. Remember when we would run around with the hose on hot days? We both end up soaking and on the floor, didn't we? We had so much fun together, didn't we Brahmsy?"

As she continued to walk, Cassandra chatted happily to the doll as they entered the kitchen, finding a table with an empty plate on it. Her smile got bigger, putting it into the sink to be washed when she had finished with Brahms' main activities. They wandered outside, Cassandra bouncing the doll gently to reposition him. "Okay Brahmsy, let's do this!"

It took at least 30 minutes to find and clean all the traps, Cassandra praising Brahms on every trap he made, wondering where he found the time to make them as a child. No matter, he still deserved praise. When everything was finished, Cassandra took Brahms straight back inside to the piano so they just have a nice sit down for a while. Flipping through the book, she rolled her eyes. "Oh Brahmsy, I feel awful for you... Listening to these all the time."

Flexing her fingers she let them dance over the keys, 'Moonlight Sonata' by Beethoven flowed from the piano, Cassandra smiling gently in pride that she still remembered how to play it. "Do you like this song, Brahmsy?" There was no signal that he didn't, so Cassandra simply continued the song. Fully, the song was 15 minutes long, and there wouldn't be a single word from Cassandra, completely focusing on the keys. It was a relaxed, yet passionate atmosphere that filled the room as she played, so immersed that she didn't even register that someone was watching her through the walls, smiling behind a mask and swaying his body gently to the new song. Already, life was getting better for him. How wonderful for Brahms.

In the last few minutes of the song, Cassandra's fingers danced ever-so-swiftly over the keys, refusing to screw up after doing so well. She could do this... As it came to a close without an error, Cassandra clapped happily, proud of such an accomplishment. "I did it Brahms!" She stood up, picking up the doll and dancing around gently. "My fingers tingle a little bit, but I did it... Now, I think it's time for some poetry Brahmsy, rest up for a little while."

Searching through the shelves, Cassandra squealed in delight at finding a poetry book she recognised high up on one of the shelves. She had to stand on a step stool to reach it (even then, on her tiptoes) but she managed to grab it. "I can't believe they still have this!" She sat down on the couch, keeping Brahms close as she found a poem to read. "Oh... We used to love this one, didn't we Brahmsy?" Clearing her throat, Cassandra began to read:

 _"Now the stock have started dying, for the Lord has sent a drought;_

 _But we're sick of prayers and Providence - we're going to do without;_

 _With the derricks up above us and the solid earth below,_  
 _We are waiting at the lever for the word to let her go._  
 _Sinking down, deeper down,_  
 _Oh, we'll sink it deeper down:_  
 _As the drill is plugging downward at a thousand feet of level,_  
 _If the Lord won't send us water, oh, we'll get it from the devil;_  
 _Yes, we'll get it from the devil deeper down._  
 _Now, our engine's built in Glasgow by a very canny Scot,_  
 _And he marked it twenty horse-power, but he don't know what is what:_  
 _When Canadian Bill is firing with the sun-dried gidgee logs,_  
 _She can equal thirty horses and a score or so of dogs._  
 _Sinking down, deeper down,_  
 _Oh, we're going deeper down:_  
 _If we fail to get the water, then it's ruin to the squatter,_  
 _For the drought is on the station and the weather's growing hotter,_  
 _But we're bound to get the water deeper down._

 _But the shaft has started caving and the sinking's very slow,_  
 _And the yellow rods are bending in the water down below,_  
 _And the tubes are always jamming, and they can't be made to shift_  
 _Till we nearly burst the engine with a forty horse-power lift._  
 _Sinking down, deeper down,_  
 _Oh, we're going deeper down:_  
 _Though the shaft is always caving, and the tubes are always jamming,_  
 _Yet we'll fight our way to water while the stubborn drill is ramming -_  
 _While the stubborn drill is ramming deeper down._

 _But there's no artesian water, though we've passed three thousand feet,_  
 _And the contract price is growing, and the boss is nearly beat._  
 _But it must be down beneath us, and it's down we've got to go,_  
 _Though she's bumping on the solid rock four thousand feet below._  
 _Sinking down, deeper down,_  
 _Oh, we're going deeper down:_  
 _And it's time they heard us knocking on the roof of Satan's dwellin';_  
 _But we'll get artesian water if we cave the roof of hell in -_  
 _Oh! we'll get artesian water deeper down._

 _But it's hark! the whistle's blowing with a wild, exultant blast,_  
 _And the boys are madly cheering, for they've struck the flow at last;_  
 _And it's rushing up the tubing from four thousand feet below,_  
 _Till it spouts above the casing in a million-gallon flow._  
 _And it's down, deeper down -_  
 _Oh, it comes from deeper down;_  
 _It is flowing, ever flowing, in a free, unstinted measure_  
 _From the silent hidden places where the old earth hides her treasure -_  
 _Where the old earth hides her treasures deeper down._

 _And it's clear away the timber, and it's let the water run:_  
 _How it glimmers in the shadow, how it flashes in the sun!_  
 _By the silent bells of timber, by the miles of blazing plain_  
 _It is bringing hope and comfort to the thirsty land again._  
 _Flowing down, further down;_  
 _It is flowing deeper down_  
 _To the tortured thirsty cattle, bringing gladness in its going;_  
 _Through the droughty days of summer it is flowing, ever flowing -_  
 _It is flowing, ever flowing, further down."_

Putting the book down, she gave a 'hmph' sound. "I never realised how depressing that poem could actually be... Beautiful piece, but rather depressing. No wonder you got so upset when we were kids, you knew the truth." Looking at the time, Cassandra hummed slightly at seeing it was only 3:30. Thinking for a moment, a light bulb went off. "Hey Brahmsy, let's try and find our Tolkien set! We can read some before dinner, yeah?"

* * *

She'd looked everywhere, no sign of the books. Feeling disheartened, Cassandra knew there was only one place she hadn't checked. The attic, and she really didn't want to. The attic always frightened her, and it was the last place she wanted to go. Keeping Brahms' bedroom door open, she sat him down on the bed with a small smile. "Now Brahmsy, I can't take you up there with me, because it's very dangerous. I won't be long, sweetness, but I need you to be a good boy. I'll just have a quick look, because makes me very scared, so I'll be back before you know it." She placed another kiss on his forehead, almost trying to reassure herself, before grabbing her small torch. "I'll leave your door open so you can see where I go, Brahms, but don't try and follow me up here. You could get hurt." Not like the doll actually could follow her, but she wanted to make sure, just in case.

Taking a shaky breath, she pulled the attic door down with the hatch pole, the ladder came down rather quickly with it, making the already on-edge woman jump. Clearing her throat and turning to the doll once more, she gave a shaky smile as it's lifeless eyes continued to watch her. "Probably shouldn't do this in heels, but never mind. I live for danger." Beginning to climb the ladder, Cassandra began to talk to herself in an subconscious attempt to reassure herself. "It's all okay Cassandra, it's just an attic. It's just another part of this house, that's all." She turned the torch on, letting out another shaky breath. Looking around with the torch, she started taking a few shaky steps forwards, her eyes constantly flicking back and forth to spot both danger and the books.

She was only a few feet away from the attic opening when it suddenly slammed shut, Cassandra whirling around so fast her spine screamed for a moment. "No, no, no, no, no!" She ran back over, trying to get it to open again with no luck. "Oh god... No, no, no." She scrambled to her feet, her heart beginning to move like a hummingbird's wings. "Come on, why now? How dare you betray me, door? I trusted you!" Her torch sweeped the attic, not seeing anything.

Cassandra let out a slight scream when she heard a child's laughter come from the opposite end of the attic. Taking a deep swallow and walking slowly in that direction on shaking legs. "Brahmsy, is that you?" She called out, only hearing another faint laugh. "Brahmsy, I told you not to follow me up here. It's very dangerous." She screamed again when something was dropped right by her feet, making her take a few steps back, verging on hysterical tears. "Brahms, this isn't funny!" She called out again, finally aiming her torch downwards quickly to what was down by her feet.

The Lord of the Rings collection, complete with the Hobbit as an extra. Slowly, she got down on her knees and picked them up. As she went to stand up again, the shaking in her legs - aided by her heels - lead her to fall back against some kind of post. It was silent, aside from the tears hitting the floor, until she heard footsteps behind her. Turning her body, her torch shining everywhere, but seeing nothing. Screaming when there was a bang, Cassandra watched as the ladder fell back down, noting that the noise was just the attic opening again. "So now you want to behave?" She practically slid down the ladder, running into Brahms' room and collapsing down onto the bed, taking the doll with her. The books had been dropped onto the bedroom floor, Cassandra gripping Brahms tightly and her tears darkening part of his jumper.

It stayed that way for a long while, until the sun began to go down and Cassandra rushed to make sure there was light in the house. If there was one thing she hated more than a creepy attic, it was the darkness in the attic. Just the dark in general. As she headed back upstairs to fetch Brahms to make sure he was there when she was making dinner, it shocked her to find that he wasn't in his room. "Brahms?" She called out softly, walking down the hallways slowly and opening doors to make sure she didn't miss him. "Brahmsy? Sweetness? Where are you?" There was no further indication, making worry build up in her chest. "Sweetness, you're scaring me..."

She was approaching a door near the end of the hallway. A door she recognised, and it was ajar with light shining through. Her old bedroom from when she would stay over. The Heelshire's decided that Cassandra needed her own room when she was a child with how often she slept over, but they had purposely made the rooms far apart. The children Brahms and her used to be would spend all night awake together if they didn't separate the bedrooms. Looking back on it, the memories made Cassandra want to laugh, but she was too concerned with finding Brahms. Speeding up her walk, Cassandra pushed the door open to find a perfect poised Brahms sitting on the edge of her bed, also finding all of her missing luggage. Smiling, she picked up the doll and kissed his forehead again. "How lovely Brahms, you wanted to show me where everything was. You're so sweet, aren't you sweetness? Yes you are." Suddenly, panic rose as Cassandra remembered the hidden presents, not wanting Brahms to find them. "Come on then Brahmsy, time for tea."

* * *

 **What's up, Unicorns!**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Have a fabulous day daaahhllinnnggsss!**

 **0^0 Weasel out!**


	3. Rest

**I don't own The Boy, it's storyline or any characters. Only my own characters and story lines. K' love you all!**

 **Thank you to anyone who favourited/followed and reviewed... Unless you Voldemort and you tried to kill Mama Unicorn.**

* * *

Brahms never meant to make her cry. He didn't mean to make his precious Cassie sad. He had forgotten she was frightened of the dark, and now he felt like a fool. Brahms had promised to be a good boy, and now he had already made her upset. He had to make it up to Cassie. She seemed to have forgiven him, now happily chatting away to his doll in the kitchen, but the tear stains on her cheeks made his heart hurt. He had made sure all her luggage was in her room, but that wasn't enough. Making sure she had clothes and necessities was just common decency. What could he do? Perhaps something to stop the house being so dark at night? As long as she was awake, he would be too, so he could make sure she'd never have to walk around in the dark around the house. That would be nice for her.

But what about her room? The lamp she had in her room when she was younger was long gone, and he didn't know what to do about that. It was clear she hadn't noticed her missing lamp, and he knew she didn't bring one with her. Brahms had looked through her luggage to ensure that. She would have to find a large amount of candles about to keep her room lit enough, and she could never sleep with the main light in her room on (they tried that when she was little). Having so many candles was a very large fire hazard, so they certainly couldn't do that. So, it was decided in Brahms' mind that he would find her a lamp somewhere in the house. He was almost certain he'd seen lamps around in the unused parts of the house. Perhaps, even Mummy and Daddy's room.

It wasn't like anything bad would happen to his little Cassie. He would protect her. He would protect her until the last breath left his body, whenever that might be. Still, he watched as she stood and put her plate in the sink, picking up the doll and leaving the warm food on the table like at lunch for him. Perhaps she didn't like the idea of freezing food for him, and wanted him to eat it at its best. Either way, was very grateful for it.

Cassandra took Brahms upstairs, changing him into his pyjamas and taking him into the bathroom, draping a hand towel over his shoulders, making sure his front was covered properly. She ran a small amount of hot water in the sink, dipping a clean cloth in the water and getting on her knees to be at the right height to the doll, who was perched on the toilet seat lid. No chance of him falling in. Carefully, she began to clean the porcelain skin on his face and hands. "Got to remember behind the ears, don't we Brahmsy?" Cassandra giggled, kissing his tiny hands and using the towel to dry him off. "Do Mummy and Daddy make sure you're clean?" She picked him up, spinning once in a circle and smiling. "Well, you're going to be very clean with me here, okay sweetness?"

She wondered into Brahms' bedroom, picking up the Hobbit and climbing into the bed with the doll. Brahms was tucked into Cassandra's side, resting against her ample bust as she opened the book, smiling when the memories came back to her. "In a hole in the ground there lived a Hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort."

* * *

Cassandra read for at least two hours, getting lost in the book again, just as she did years ago. It was only when the time on the clock that she finished the chapter, escaping the bed. She put the book on the side, carefully tucking Brahms in again. "Goodnight Brahmsy." She kissed his forehead, fixing his hair. "We'll do more tomorrow, I promise. Maybe we can find some puzzles..." Smiling gently, she kissed him once more. "You call me if you need anything, love. I'm only down the hall." Getting up, she left the room with wish goodnight. Turning off his light and walking to her room, the doll was left illuminated by his lamp alone, blank eyes staring where his Cassie stood.

The woman in question had only just got into her room and closed the door when she spotted a lamp on either side of her bed, plugged in and on night stands. She was sure they hadn't been there before... The night stands, yes, but not the lamps. Thinking nothing of it - she must've just missed them - turning them on and changing into a knee length satin nightgown. Cassandra turned off the main light and climbed into the spacious, soft bed, pulling out her phone and busying herself on _Temple Run 2_ to keep her track record. It had only been about half an hour when she was distracted by loud crying. Close crying. Familiar crying. "Oh Brahmsy..." She threw off the covers and sped towards the door.

Throwing open the door, she jumped at the sight of Brahms sat by the opposite wall. Immediately, Cassandra picked him up, holding him close and bouncing him, making a soft 'shh' as the cries continued. "Oh sweetness, what's wrong? What happened?" Seeing the dark halls, Cassandra took him into her own room and closed the door, the cries calming as soon as the door slammed. Her mind whirred as she tried to think why he'd want to be in here and not his own room. Surely this was out of routine... As she paced, the cries disappeared completely, Cassandra resting her cheek on his hair. "Oh sweetness, did you have a nightmare?" She remembered that Brahms would always run in here if he had a bad dream when they were children, and they both got a comfort out of having someone else with them, instead of being in two separate rooms where they were vulnerable. She wondered if he ever ran to his parents. But how could a spirit have a nightmare? Well, not like it mattered. She was his Nanny, and it was her job to do whatever he needed. "All right Brahmsy, but just this once."

Carrying him into her bed, she settled down with the lifeless doll, holding him close and whispering another goodnight into his hair. With a final kiss on his forehead, Cassandra drifted off to sleep without a problem, completely oblivious to the very lively eyes watching the sleeping woman, elated his plan had worked and thrilled that his Cassie could sleep easily with the lamps he'd stolen from Mummy and Daddy's room. He hoped she would hold the doll every night, practically feeling her warmth on his body, as he silently came into her room.

His feet were silent against the carpeted floor, a small pair of scissors in one hand. Soon, he would be able to stay in here. Soon, she would actually hold him that way and give him all the kisses he wanted. Soon, he'd be able to press into her side as she read to him in her sweet voice. Aah, he could listen to her read for days without rest. Stilling, his fingers lightly danced through her hair, marvelling at the soft, silky feeling, before choosing a spot that wouldn't be obvious. He only cut off about two and a half inches, but that was enough for Brahms. So, he just stood for a good while, looking down at the sleeping figure and silently admiring her. She was so perfect. So perfect for him, anyway. It wasn't like anyone else would have her. She promised.

He would have to keep an eye on Malcolm. For all he knew, Malcolm could sweep in and try and take his sweet Cassie away. He couldn't have that. She was his. So, he would just have to keep an extra close watch on Malcolm, and handle things accordingly if anything went too far.

There was movement in the bed, Brahms tilting his head at seeing Cassie shuffle, pulling the doll closer. "Goodnight, Cassie..."

* * *

 **What's up, Unicorns!**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Have a fabulous day daaahhllinnnggsss!**

 **0^0 Weasel out!**


	4. The Swing Pt1

**I don't own The Boy, it's story line or any characters. Only my own characters and story lines. K' love you all!**

 **Thank you to anyone who favourited/followed and reviewed... Unless you Voldemort and you tried to kill Mama Unicorn.**

* * *

That night, Cassandra had a very odd dream, but yet it wasn't a dream at all. It was a memory.

She was eight years old again. Her hair was back in a braid that was decorated with silver beads, some of the front strands framing her face. She was in a light blue dress that fell to her knees, white tights and dainty little blue shoes. A grin was breaking out over her face, holding a present wrapped neatly in silver paper as she ran towards the doors of the imposing Heelshire Manor. "Brahms!" She was yelling, even though he wouldn't be able to hear her, hearing the party going on inside the house. All adults with their children to keep up appearances, of course, but at least Brahms and her could escape to other parts of the house and be away from it all.

Her parents calmly opened the door for their tiny daughter, watching as ran in, filled with excitement to see her friend. Cassandra ignored all the cooing adults who spotted the adorable child, making straight for the dining table. "Brahms!" Hearing his name, the sullen birthday boy looked up, spotting Cassandra with a small smile ghosting on his lips.

A chair was pulled out for her, hopping up and handing the present over with a hopeful expression. "I hope you like it~"

"I like anything you give me, Cassie." Brahms lightly patted her hair with one hand, before carefully unwrapping the present with his deft fingers. He never liked ripping them open, much preferring to gently pick it apart so he wouldn't ruin the pretty silver. So patient.

Once the paper was undone and off, Brahms' face lit up brightly and he beamed at his friend. Lord, Cassandra loved his smile. It was rare to see a bright smile on Brahms' face these days, so it was such a treasure to see. She would remember that smile for all her years after. "It's beautiful, Cassie!" And indeed it was. It was a polished oak and steel kit of beginner sculpting tools. Cassandra knew that he'd wanted to start the craft, and now he'd have the proper tools to begin. "Thank you,"

"You're welc-" she was cut off as he hugged her tight, something else that was very unusual, so she loosely wrapped her arms around him.

"Everyone else got me boring thing," he whispered gently in her ear, Cassandra's eyes looking at the generic gifts of teddy bears and wooden presents for a non-typical boy. It just proved to her how little they knew or cared about him.

"How irritating," she muttered, getting slightly uncomfortable with how long Brahms had been holding her. "Let's go play outside, okay Brahms?"

"Okay Cassie... It's too loud in here for me," he took her leading hand, following silently as Cassandra weaved through the crowd stealthily, not wanting anyone to stop Brahms and wish him a false 'happy birthday' to simply make him more anxious. Once Cassandra had got them out, Brahms was able to walk beside the smaller child, gripping her hand a little tighter as they headed into the trees and out of sight. "Emily's coming soon."

"Oh dear," Cassandra frowned slightly, taking them both deeper into the trees. She was never Emily's biggest fan, but she wasn't so bad at times. "At least I'll be here to make sure she doesn't grate on you too much."

"Hmmmm..." Brahms fell silent, a very different air coming about him as their homemade swing came into view. No one could reach them here, and no one else knew of its existence. Their little sanctuary away from it all. They'd managed to find a thick wood piece able to hold them both so the could sit and swing together, and it had made the world of difference. Brahms was still holding her hand, looking at his feet as they swung gently. "I hope she never finds this place," Brahms spoke softly, his voice very airy. "She'd ruin it, and I couldn't stand that."

"Emily wouldn't do that, Brahms." Cassandra ran her free hand over his hair. "Besides, what could you do if she did?"

"Make her disappear." With such a causal tone, she may have thought he was talking about a magic trick. "I'd make her disappear forever..."

* * *

Her eyes fluttered open, the sun streaming through the curtain gaps, and she held her head up with her eyes glaring slightly. After a few moments, she realised there was no doll her bed and she was filled with panic, all sleepiness forced from her body. Turning her head, Cassandra saw her door was wide open; bolting from her bed and into the hallways, her eyes darting to try and find the missing doll. "Brahms?"

Spotting the open door to his bedroom, she carefully peered around the door and getting filled with relief at seeing the doll perched on the bed with clothes in a neat pile beside him. Crossing her arms loosely under her chest, she let out a long sigh. "Don't just vanish like that, Brahms. You scared me." Shaking her head, she lifted him into her arms and travelled to the bathroom. "I thought you'd run away." Kissing his hair, they continued the ritual of washing the doll before dressing him in the clothes that had been piled: a pair of jeans, a white shirt, braces for some reason, and comfortable shoes. "Alright then love, lets get me dressed and then we can have breakfast."

Taking the doll back into her room, Cassandra opened her suitcase, her eyes widening at seeing none of her clothes inside. She was sure she had gotten her nightgown out of it last night. Opening her wardrobe, she saw every dress hanging up in length order, her shoes neatly lined up on the bottom with her scarves, shawls and hats organised on the top section. "What in the name of..."

Pulling open all her drawers, she found her t-shirts, trousers and shorts, underwear, socks all neatly packed away with her makeup on top of the drawers. "How?" Cassandra could've sworn she didn't put any of her clothes away yesterday. She knew she didn't. Turning to face the doll perched on the edge of her bed, she frowned deeply. "Is this you?"

No response.

"Brahms, while I appreciate the gesture, you shouldn't be going through my things."

No answer.

Huffing, she grabbed what she needed and stormed into the bathroom. Cassandra had forgotten how intrusive Brahms could be - perhaps due to his childish curiousity - but she would have to teach him to respect privacy. It was no good if she couldn't even keep her clothes sacred. Changing into a tight fitting pair of black jeans, a short sleeved button-up white shirt, black lace-up heels and a pair of black braces. "Well, it would seem I'm matching Brahms today," simply pulling her hair into a braid, her mind momentarily relayed the memory she had tried to bury. That very day, Emily had died and Brahms had been swallowed by flames. What a horrible day it had been, despite the wonderful beginning. It was last time Cassandra had seen Brahms' smile... Such a beautiful smile.

A loud bang from the bedroom made Cassandra jump, dashing out of the bathroom; she saw all the drawers closed and the wardrobe doors had been slammed shut. Without thinking, she rushed forward and ripped the doors open, moving the clothes around and finding no sign of anyone. She spun around as the bedroom door creaked open slowly, running to the door on adrenaline to look down the halls both ways and, again, seeing nothing. "This isn't funny Brahms!" Calling out, she quickly glanced to the bed and, as she suspected, found no doll. "Brahms!"

 _"Cassie..."_ A faint, childlike voice came from down the stairs, the muscles in her legs beginning to violently shake. _"Cassie?"_

"Brahms?" Slowly, she headed out of the room, her legs still trembling underneath her. "Where are you?"

 _"Find me, Cassie."_ Oh no. _"Come and play, Cassie!_ "

"Brahmsy, sweetness, please..." She let out a small sigh, getting herself together. Brahms wanted to play, and if she had any hope of finding him she had to do as he wanted. It was her job to indulge him, and it seemed he had learned it all too well. "Give me a clue, Brahms! Where are you?"

 _"Telephone."_ Cassandra headed swiftly down the stairs, running along the hall until she saw the telephone by the door, her heels not appreciated all this running. She sighed, putting her hands on her hips and shaking her head slowly.

"Well, I see no Brah-" The telephone rang shrilly, cutting off her sentence and her hand shook crazily as she lifted it to her ear. "Hello?"

 _"Cassie?"_ Her heart stopped. It was one thing hearing his voice faintly around the house, but hearing it right in her ear evoked so many memories. _"I missed you, Cassie."_

"Brahms..." Tears built in her eyes, hearing his soft breath on the other end of the line.

 _"Don't cry, Cassie... I hate it when you cry,"_ his voice was soft, quelling her emotions. _"Come find me."_

"Where are you?"

" _Hiding."_

"Hiding where?"

 _"Secret."_ The phone went dead, leaving Cassandra in a stunned silence. Where would he be? Why would he run off to play before having breakfast? More importantly, why didn't he let her eat? He knew she struggled to function without food in the morning.

 _'Think now, Cassandra. Where would Brahms Heelshire be hiding?'_ Chewing on her bottom lip, she stood in silence, her head slowly turning towards the front door, swallowing a lump in her throat as the realisation washed over her.

The swing. Brahms would be at the swing.

* * *

 **What's up, Unicorns!**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Have a fabulous day daaahhllinnnggsss!**

 **0^0 Weasel out!**


	5. The Swing Pt2

**I don't own The Boy, it's story line or any characters. Only my own characters and story lines. K' love you all!**

 **Thank you to anyone who favourited/followed and reviewed... Unless you Voldemort and you tried to kill Mama Unicorn.**

* * *

Collecting her thoughts, Cassandra dashed out of the house; she focused on the trees exactly thirty-five and a half feet from where she stood. Letting out a shaky breath, she started off with a soft jog to reach the treeline, often turning her head to look back at the house. She didn't want to go to that swing. Bad things happened at that swing. Bad things she'd fought to forget. Bad things the Doctors had forced her to remember... She didn't want to go back in here, but what choice did she have?

This had started so innocent. Just a game of Hide and Seek, but now Brahms wanted her to go the swing. To relive what had been their last moments together. He never even got a chance to use the kit she got him... What was he trying to get out of this? Was it just for the bittersweet irony of sorts, or was it something far more sinister? That made her worry. Although Brahms was predictable to an extent, there were always times like this where you never quite knew what was going through his brain.

Her own brain was spinning as she continued cautiously through the trees, the entrance no longer visible as she began to recite the familiar landmarks. "Bumpy tree, turn left 45 degrees... Witch hut with red rope, turn right 30 degrees... Continue on straight..." Reeling off the old instructions quietly, Cassandra navigated her way through the thick trees, it wasn't long enough before she reached the entanglement of trees that hid the swing from sight, along with the second Witch hut tied with blue rope that they'd made in case they needed shelter from rain.

Cassandra's breath had momentarily caught in her throat, her brain stopping for a moment. Her muscles were beginning to tremble again, every part of her demanding her to not go any further into those trees, but he'd left her no other option. Cassandra had been hired to take care of this little boy, and she wasn't blind to the fact he was abusing her position in this situation.

After putting on a brave face - blocking any memories that would try and be seen again - Cassandra stormed to the tree entanglement, weaving her way into the clearing. Sure enough, sitting on the softly moving swing, was Brahms. Staring at her with dirt on the doll's cheek, Cassandra couldn't stop herself from seeing the live boy he once was. His hair would've been in a rare mess (gained from the winds by swinging), expensive shoes scuffed from the ground, eyes sparkling in happiness... Silly little Brahms.

Carefully, Cassandra approached the doll, looking down at him with eyes that looked lost. "You're in a heap of trouble, Mister..." Picking him up, her hand ran over the old wood that was beginning to decay from the exposure. It was a sad sight, and just more irony when she thought on it. It was so beautiful when they'd made it, so much effort and accomplishment from the young children. It was the best thing ever to them, and now it held regrets, sadness and tragedy, and so it showed to Cassandra in the very wood itself.

Despite it all, and before she could stop herself, Cassandra had sat on the dry wood, her feet only just touching the floor, as the doll sat quietly on her lap. "I was going to make pancakes this morning, but you purposely disobeyed me." Fixing the doll's hair yet again. she sighed. "It's plain ol' scrambled egg on toast for you today, Mister, and no reading today either." Cassandra knew how much he liked being read to, and she hoped this would teach him a lesson, even if only a little. "Don't run off like that again, Brahms, and I mean it. I was so frightened! This places was tarnished, you know that. It was-"

" _Emily._ " That little voice was heard again, but it sounded both angrier and closer. Like he was about to bubble over with rage. " _Emily did that_."

"Brahms..."

" _I told you she would ruin it, pretty Cassie. You didn't believe me, and that's okay, because I was right._ "

"Of course you were. You were always right." Cassandra needed to play along, she knew that already. Brahms was angry, and nothing good happened with that. Right now, she was the only other person in his presence, and that scared her, so she had to calm him down. "Don't you think we should go back now for breakfast? We'll fix the swing at some point, maybe."

" _Alright, pretty Cassie-_ " he never called her pretty, and now he'd done it twice. Cassandra's mind began to wonder what she could do, and then she remembered the letter that Mr. Heelshire had left her, under her pillow. She should've read it earlier, but now she really had to. " _We'll go._ " Good, this was good.

As she began to walk out of the godforsaken place, she refrained a shiver as she felt eyes burning into her back and heard his voice one last time. " _Will you sing when we get there?_ "

"If that's what you want, Brahms. If that's what you want..."

* * *

 **Brahms**

Ahh she looked so beautiful as she walked away, still predominantly unaware I was even here. So sweet, Cassie. So naive, Cassie. I would be lying if I said I wasn't annoyed by the fact she wouldn't be reading to me tonight, but then again it was only for today and I had disobeyed her. Mummy and Daddy always punished me far worse if I disobeyed them, so this was nothing, and there was so much we could fill our time together that missing out on reading wasn't bad at all. Still,she had come to find me, despite being oh-so very scared. Such a brave girl, was my Cassie. Such a good girl, was my Cassie.

I smiled behind the face that was loved, ecstatic that she'd passed my little test, and far faster than I thought she would. Silly me, underestimating her. I knew now that she would come for me no matter what, and that pleased me more than anything.

I followed at a safe distance behind my Cassie, watching how her hips gently swung as she walked with a small smile on my face. I was excited for many reasons, but others had more excitement poured into them.

1\. It was birthday in five days. It would be six if I counted today, but I never did that. It's weird. I wondered what Cassie had got me, and I had no doubt it would be lovely. They always were.

2\. I would get to hear her sing. It had been so long since I had heard her sing, and I was very excited indeed to hear that lovely voice. I wonder what she's going to sing for me? There were so many options with Cassandra, and how very happy that made me. Ahh, she was too lovely sometimes.

3\. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had scrambled egg on toast. Mummy and Daddy always gave me frozen things, but Cassie was making sure I ate the food at its best. I hope I'm allowed ketchup with it. I like ketchup a lot. How very lucky I am. How very happy I am.

4\. Maybe I would go out from the walls today, and she could take care of me properly. That would be the best scenario. Perhaps I shouldn't be so very hasty, but I have waited a very long time to have her to take care of me. I've waited too long...

But enough with such a list - one already dictates my life -I've not got the time to continue to think of any other reason. I had stories and music to listen to, food to eat and a dilemma to contemplate. If I do show myself, Cassie could try to run away, and I couldn't have that. I would have to make sure she could never leave again; not only was that an incredible waste of my effort, but I didn't want to have to scold her for not following the rules. I was the one who had to be good (and she hadn't done anything wrong so far) but that didn't mean she could get away with being bad. On the other hand, she may not run at all. She had come into the place she fears the most just to get me, and maybe the fact that I'm alive and not a ghost will make more sense in that beautiful mind of hers. Undoubtedly, she would need time to adjust – both of us would – but I was ready, and so she should be as well.

She was mine, and so she had no choice. I'd waited far too long to be as patient as I should be. It was just us for now, and I wanted to savour every moment of it before Mummy and Daddy come home, because then it will be much harder for us to find any time where it would be just the two of us. I didn't want them to come back too soon, and they didn't tell me when they'd be back, so it was essentially now or never.

Mummy always did say I was far too impulsive for my own good. With my behaviour, my thoughts, my decisions… Especially the decisions to do with those pathetic excuses for nannies. Especially with what I did to Emily… I didn't want to, but what choice was left? They didn't do their job properly, and I had told my parents plainly who I wanted. If they had listened to me, then all those women would still be alive! I'm not the impulsive one, Mummy and Daddy made the impulsive decision to ignore my demands every single time, and then couldn't reap what they'd sown…

* * *

 **I... I just love writing Brahms. It's becoming a thing, although I don't think they'll be another Brahms POV for a couple of chapters.**

 **All kicking off now my people**

* * *

 **What's up, Unicorns!**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Have a fabulous day daaahhllinnnggsss!**

 **0^0 Weasel out!**


	6. The Letter

**I don't own The Boy, it's story line or any characters. Only my own characters and story lines. K' love you all!**

 **Thank you to anyone who favourited/followed and reviewed... Unless you Voldemort and you tried to kill Mama Unicorn.**

* * *

Cassandra had come back into the kitchen, placing the doll down on the table and spinning over to the worktop. Putting the bread in the toaster, Cassandra got to work on melting butter in the frying pan and mixing together the salt, milk, eggs, pepper and – for some reason – coriander. Pouring the mixture into the frying pan, she waited until it had begun to get solid before moving the spatula back and forth to scramble it. When the toast popped back up, she buttered the pieces and put another two pieces in for herself. "I seem to be having a lot of toast lately, huh Brahms?"

Of course there was no response – there never was unless he wanted to say something relevant to himself – but Cassandra got on with what she had to do. Eventually, a soft melody began to fall from her lips ( _Crying in the Chapel_ by Elvis) as she put the scrambled eggs onto the toast, spinning to the sink and washing the dishes before they got food stuck to them; putting the plate on the table afterwards, she pulled a small bottle of ketchup out of the fridge – along with a knife and fork – before picking up the doll and walking to the door, turning her head back slightly. "I expect that finished and in the sink within thirty minutes, little spirit boy, okay? How a spirit eats, I don't know, but apparently you do,"

With that, she took the doll and herself up the stairs and into her room, quickly sitting on the bed and pulling out the letter under one of her pillows, resting Brahms against said pillow so he wasn't just strewn on the bed. Carefully, she peeled open the envelope and took out a thin piece of paper; crossing her legs under her, she slowly unfolded the paper and began to read:

 ** _Sweet girl, we have lied to you for too long, and it's time that the truth reveals itself, as it should've years ago. If there was one other person we should've trusted with this ungodly truth, then it should've been you from the start, but you were just a child and you were broken over Brahms' death. Now you must know. It was cruel of us to leave you with him, but even crueller not to tell you now._**

None of this so far had made sense to Cassandra. How was it cruel of them to leave her with Brahms? He had been a bit mischievous, nothing out of the ordinary, so why were they making such a huge deal out of this? She supposed the answer would come if she kept reading.

 ** _Brahms is not what you believe. For years we have hidden the truth from you and it has eaten us from the inside outwards. Brahms' spirit is not residing in the house: he is. Don't be fooled by his childish voice, Cassandra, he's powerful and dangerous… We're so sorry for leaving you with him, but how else could we escape the monster that is our son?_**

 ** _He's in the walls, Cassandra. Watching you. All day, all night. He'll never stop – he loves you too much – but don't ever think for one second that you're alone, because you aren't. Don't ever let your guard down. No matter what you do, he's watching you from the walls._**

 ** _Even right now._**

Cassandra's head whipped around the room, all of a sudden feeling flooded with emotions: betrayal, suspicion, confusion… Fear. She folded the letter quickly and put it in her pocket, her eyes all of a sudden glued on the walls and approaching them slowly. Staying at arms distance, she reached out and knocked twice on the wall in front of her, waiting for some kind of response.

 **Knock. Knock.**

The noises came from the wall behind her bed, making a shuddering breath escape her lips as she slowly made her way over, knocking again and immediately getting a response, falling back onto the bed and pulling her legs up so nothing could grab them.

How could she have been so stupid? How could she have not realised before? The food would disappear because he was alive, he could cry because he was alive, the doll could move because the real Brahms was moving it to make it look like it was possessed doll! She was an idiot… A foolish, blind, naïve idiot.

Tears of rage began to burn in her eyes, staring straight at the wall where the knocks were last heard. "How could you do this to me?! How could let **_them_** do this to me?! I thought we were friends, Brahms! I always thought we always were, but apparently not enough for you to let me suffer for **_years_**! I thought you were dead: I have grieved for you since that fire and you didn't even die! How could you?!"

Practically flying off the bed, she left the doll there and stormed across the hallway, yanking down the attic door and stairs. "It was you up there... It was you that frightened me wasn't it? Some friend you are!"

Leaving the ladder down, she pushed past it and ran down the stairs; shoving the doors open, Cassandra's legs moved on their own accord toward the swing that had haunted her for so many years: the swing that had falsely haunted her. For so long, she believed that this swing was her last memory with Brahms while he was alive, but no, because he'd lied to her and been alive this whole time…

"How could he do this me?" Her voice was a broken whisper by the time she reached the swing, falling onto the old wood and gripping the roped tightly as tears of betrayal and anger burned down her face, her lip bleeding slightly from how hard she was biting. "How could he lie? How could they lie?" Cassandra had believed for so long that the Heelshire's were good people – loving people – but they had lied and left her alone with their apparent monster of a son… All this time, they were just using her to get away from Brahms, and now here she was: right where they wanted her. If they had been right, if she tried to leave then she figured Brahms wouldn't let her. She was all he had, and right now Cassandra didn't want any part in it. "… How could I be such a fool to believe it?"

Suddenly, she felt those eyes on her back again, turning the upper half of her body, but seeing no one. Jumping off the swing, she wiped the tears from her face and did her best to stand without shaking. "Why are you hiding, Brahms? Are you afraid, because I'll tell you I am. I'm afraid that the one person I thought I could always trust turned out to be a liar!"

"Cassie, stop it." It was that childlike voice again, but it was so damn close to her and was impossible to place. An opposite of her aggressive tone, the voice sounded – essentially – exasperated.

"You stop it!"

"Stop yelling, Cassie. I don't like it,"

"I don't like being lied to," Cassandra took a breath, steadying herself. This was still Brahms, and she had to be rational – even though none of this was rational. Her built-in survival instinct took over her brain, and her temper fell (only on the outside) if she had any hope of getting Brahms to actually show himself. "You have ten seconds to show yourself in front of me or I will get seriously angry with you,"

"Cassie-"

"One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six… Seven… Eig–"

She didn't have a chance to actually finish, a tall and broad figure stepping out from the trees. He was considerably bigger than her (height and width wise) and she swallowed thickly at the eerie, intimidating figure about fifteen feet from her. Messy black curls fell around his head, brushing past his ears and some of it falling over a porcelain mask that made Cassandra withhold a cringe. His greyish eyes stared at her while she began to naturally frown when she saw how filthy his clothes were. "Hello Brahms,"

"Cassie…"

* * *

 **I know it's a little short but I wanted to give you all something. You're all so patient and so supportive! But the next is almost finished so that should be up soon! Thank you all for your patience.**

* * *

 **What's up, Unicorns!**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Have a fabulous day daaahhllinnnggsss!**

 **0^0 Weasel out!**


End file.
